


sweet honey on his breath

by Sendryl



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types
Genre: Blood and Injury, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Pre-Slash, Trust Issues
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-12
Updated: 2020-10-12
Packaged: 2021-03-08 04:48:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,666
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26966209
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sendryl/pseuds/Sendryl
Summary: Agen Kolar is on Naboo when he gets a comm from Fay, requesting aide for a trouble-magnet friend of theirs on a planet in the Outer Rim.He's very glad, in the end, that he dropped everything to come to Jon's aide.
Relationships: Jon Antilles/Agen Kolar
Comments: 9
Kudos: 68





	sweet honey on his breath

**Author's Note:**

  * For [CherFleur](https://archiveofourown.org/users/CherFleur/gifts).



> So it was you, my dear Cher, who finally managed to drag me into the Star Wars fandom.  
> Well done, you. XD
> 
> Hope you enjoy!

Agen emerges from the darkness into the light of the crackling campfire, steps silent as ever, and for the first time in their long friendship and even longer acquaintance, Jon doesn't sense him.

He's sitting on a log, so close to the fire that Agen would worry he'd catch his robes alight, if Jon were wearing them.

Which he isn't.

He's almost naked, in fact, stripped down to his underclothes, wrapping a bandage around himself as best he can. Agen can clearly see his hands shaking, even from the very edge of the circle of firelight, and Jon’s clumsy wrap job is missing most of the thin gashes across his shoulders, rivulets of blood and pus dripping down his back to stain his breeches.

“Need some help, Antilles?” Agen asks, and he doesn’t understand why Jon tenses at his voice, nor why he swiftly spins to face him, hissing in a pained breath as he turns, face fully visible for the first time Agen’s ever seen.

He’s known for years that Jon carries more scars than a Rancor, but seeing them cut across his face, the width and amount of them is… alarming. Both for the implications of what Jon has had to suffer, and for the way the evidence of his strength in the face of adversity ignites a warmth in Agen’s core.

He can feel Jon’s panic though, sharp and sudden and nothing he ever wanted to inspire in his friend, and the depth of his pain and confusion, and that is far more important than any spark of attraction.

“Antilles?” He asks again, slowly coming closer, lowering his own hood to be sure Jon can see him. “I was in the area, and I heard you could use some assistance.”

Jon blinks, wavers, and finally seems to register who Agen is.

“Kolar?” He asks, and even his voice sounds like it hurts, gravelly and low. He coughs, and his nose starts bleeding sluggishly. “How’d you find me?”

“Master Fay asked if I knew of anyone near Yerbana who could assist you in your mission. I was near enough.”

"Of course it was Fay," Jon mutters, and Agen takes it as permission to come closer.

He settles on the log beside Jon, and decides not to call attention to the way the other Jedi stiffens and shifts away, twisting slightly to attempt to hide his wounds. He isn’t very successful. Mainly because he’s absolutely covered in them.

“Why aren’t you healing yourself?” Agen raises an eyebrow, unable to think of a good reason for Jon to be treating his wounds with bacta and bandages when he knows Force healing.

“Can’t,” Jon sighs. He seems to be resigning himself to Agen’s presence, and he starts trying to bandage himself again. “Fought a massive Sith experiment in one of the chasms. Nasty thing tried to bite my head off, and when I stabbed it, it threw me into a wall.”

Now that he’s closer, Agen can see that the gashes across Jon’s shoulders are in fact a series of tooth marks, evenly spaced and deep. The pus is worrisome, implying Jon’s left his wounds untended for too long already.

“It left me for dead, and when I got up,” Jon continues, a faint tremor in his voice, “I couldn’t feel my connection to the Force anymore. So Force healing isn’t a possibility at the moment.”

Agen frowns at that, alarm overriding any other emotion.

“You can’t feel the Force?” He asks, trying to think through possible causes.

“Not at all,” Jon confirms quietly. The shake in his voice is clearer now, his eyes darting around the darkness surrounding his small fire, and Agen can’t imagine what that must feel like. To be cut off from the Force, from the ebb and flow of the weave of the universe around them… It must be incredibly unsettling.

He reaches out without thinking and grasps an uninjured bit of Jon’s arm, intending to comfort him, remind him that he’s not alone, that the Force is still around and within him, even if his sense of it is blocked for the moment. Jon is hot to the touch, a fever already setting in, but Agen only has a split second to worry about it.

Instead of relaxing, Jon jerks violently away with a bitten off cry, yanking his arm from Agen’s hold and almost falling into the fire in his haste to pull away. Agen backs off immediately, hands up and leaning as far back as he can, and when Jon looks at him, he can see the feverish shine in the man’s eyes.

The pus might indicate more of an issue than he was hoping for.

“Peace, Jon,” Agen says, forcing himself to stay calm and composed, relaxed even though he’s holding himself entirely still. “You have my apologies, dear friend. I only thought to offer comfort, not pain.”

Jon is trembling, staring not at him but  _ through _ him, and Agen wonders, sorrow tingeing his thoughts, who he’s seeing instead. Judging by the fear and pain in his feverbright gaze, it isn’t someone he ever wants to see again.

Agen doesn’t want to move. He definitely isn’t going to try to touch Jon again, not when he isn’t sure what will set him off. Jon is injured enough that even pulling away from Agen’s hold started his wounds bleeding anew, and since touch isn’t an option, Agen decides to speak.

"Fay said you were here to take down a band of slavers, not monsters,” he says, aiming for a light tone, easy and friendly, inviting Jon to join him again in conversation.

Jon blinks, nods, but his eyes still aren’t focusing on Agen.

He’ll have to try something else. He shifts, slowly lowers his hands to rest in his lap, and as he does, he feels the weight of the bag in his pocket, the gift he picked up when he left Naboo to come to Jon’s aide. He knew then that Jon would eventually figure out that he’d been nowhere near Yerbana when he got Fay’s comm, but it had seemed worth the teasing, at the time.

Now it seems like it might have been the Force guiding him, instead of his own soft heart.

“Would you like a sweet, Jon?” He offers the bag to Jon, the little triangular candies inside gleaming green and gold in the firelight. “I picked up some honey candies for you when I left Naboo. I remembered how much you liked the spiced ones from Alderaan, and I thought you might enjoy these as well.”

Jon stares, confused and wary, but when Agen pops a couple pieces of candy in his own mouth and then tilts the bag closer with an encouraging smile, he reaches out and takes a single piece. He carefully puts it in his mouth, rolls it around, and a bit of awareness rises in his eyes.

“Honey?” He asks, slow and slurred, like he’s waking from a dream.

“Honey candies from Naboo,” Agen agrees. “For you.”

Jon hums in pleasure, clearly enjoying the sweet taste, and when he next meets Agen’s eyes, Agen can tell he’s mostly back with him.

“What’s this about monsters, now?” Agen’s question is as soft as his smile, and Jon drags in a deep breath, then lets out a shaky sigh and nods, clearly struggling to pull himself together.

When Jon speaks, his words indicate a clear mind, but his tongue has trouble shaping them.

“The creature looked like a combination of a Spine-wolf and a Nexu, which is just as awful as it sounds. I’m not looking forward to facing it again.”

"I thought you were out here to deal with slavers," Agen says, even and calm, refusing to worry. He’s here now, and Jon is alive, and he’ll soon be well. He reaches out a hand, wordlessly motioning for the bacta at Jon’s side, and there’s a long moment where Agen’s sure Jon will refuse his help.

But then he sighs, passes Agen the jar, and turns to give him access to his back.

"I  _ was _ out here for the slavers,” Jon grumbles, voice clearer now, twitching at the sound of Agen opening the bacta jar. “And I  _ did _ take care of them. But then it turned out that they were connected to the spice trade, because of course they were," Jon says, and he sounds so exasperated that Agen can’t help but be amused, even as he reaches out to start spreading bacta across Jon’s back.

Jon shudders at the first touch, but doesn’t pull away again. "And then the spice trader boss apparently had a thing for deserted Sith labs, because  _ of course he did-" _

"Of course," Agen agrees, his voice still calm and deep, but with a hint of laughter underneath. If Jon wants to get through this with humor, Agen will do his best to follow his lead.

“And there was still a Sith experiment hanging around, which only showed up after I’d taken out the Spice runners, because  _ of course it did.” _ Jon finishes, and Agen's laughter rings out over the campsite, deep and clear and infectious, and Jon actually chuckles.

The motion must pull at his injuries, because his laughter cuts off in a hiss of pain.

Agen stops laughing. But he doesn’t stop spreading bacta across Jon’s back, doesn’t let his hands shake, or his fear for his friend control him. He focuses on healing him instead.

They pass the night with quiet conversation and honey candies, Jon drifting in and out as Agen salves his wounds, binds them with bandages.

Agen finally wraps Jon up in both their robes and lays them both down beside the fire, and Jon’s facing the fire when they fall asleep, Agen wrapped around him to keep him warm and fight the fever down.

But when Agen wakes, it’s to the sight of Jon’s scarred face, peaceful in sleep, and the scent of sweet honey on his breath.

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> This was... Quite fun to write.
> 
> Agen and Jon are very fun characters, and Cher, you have a lovely mind to think of them. And excellent taste in music, that song is really gorgeous and fits the fic oddly well. XD
> 
> I meant to end this with more healing and them agreeing to face this monster together, Agen reminding Jon he's not alone, never alone, and then promising to get him to either Fay or T'ra Saa to figure out what was wrong with his connection to the Force, but yeah. Thirty minutes is a very short time to write. XD XD XD
> 
> Anyway, hope you enjoyed!!!
> 
> Leave a comment if you did!


End file.
